


Root Beer & Remembrance

by actuallyshehulk



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Marvel Universe, Reader-Insert, peter quill x reader, starlord x reader
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:41:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/actuallyshehulk/pseuds/actuallyshehulk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peter Quill wasn't the type of person to dwell on the past. He was more of a "hump it and dump it" kind of guy, ensuring that the taillights of the Milano was the last anyone would see of him. Until recently, he'd even tried to suppress his memories of his mother. But now, what with the threat of Ronan eradicated and Xandar safe and sound, Peter found himself submerged in nostalgia. [[Critiques welcome!]]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Peter Quill wasn't the type of person to dwell on the past. He was more of a "hump it and dump it" kind of guy, ensuring that the taillights of the Milano was the last anyone would see of him. Until recently, he'd even tried to suppress his memories of his mother. But now, what with the threat of Ronan eradicated and Xandar safe and sound, Peter found himself submerged in nostalgia.

…

1986\. The opening notes of "Dancing on the Ceiling" strained their way through the radio static. 

"What is happening here/Something's going on that's not quite clear/Somebody turn on the lights/We're gonna have a party/It's starting tonight" 

Two kids sat on the curb, nursing bottles of root beer. Little Peter Quill stared down his root beer bottle, rolling the bottleneck between his hands. It had long since grown warm due to his neglect of it. But how could he focus on the drink when more pressing things were on his mind? Not even an hour ago, he was pushed out of his house by his uncle and ushered to a family friend's house as an ambulance raced past. "Peter," his uncle had told him, "I need you to go to Mrs. (l/n)'s house for the afternoon. I'll come pick you up as soon as I can." The look on his uncle's face had been a mixture of anxiety and fear, and coupled with the ambulance he had seen going in the direction of his house had Peter more than scared.

A sharp elbow poked his side, startling him from his thoughts. He turned to the girl next to him, giving her a half-hearted, "What?"

She gestured to his untouched root beer. "Are you gonna finish that?"

Peter shrugged, taking his bottle and handing it over to her. She eagerly swiped it from his grasp, gulping it down with a ferocity that is usually associated with experienced drinkers. After finishing the drink in what seemed like five seconds, she slammed the glass down on the curb and started coughing violently. 

Concerned, Peter lightly tapped her shoulder. "Y-you okay?"

Slowly but surely, her coughing died down, and she looked up at Peter with an ear-to-ear grin. "I'm fine," she assured, patting him on the back, "just got some bubbles in the back of my throat."

Peter rolled his eyes at her and positioned himself so that he now lay on his back, looking blankly at the sky above him. From the shifting he felt next to him, he knew that the girl had done the same.

Without looking at her, he asked what had been on his mind this whole time. "Do you think my mom's gonna be okay?"

A few seconds passed. The girl cleared her throat, and Peter could feel her eyes on him as she responded. "I want her to be."

For a moment, all that could be heard was the soft breeze of a late spring and the closing lyrics of the song.

"Oh, what a feeling/When we're dancing on the ceiling baby baby/We gonna dance all night"

Then Peter cracked the tiniest of smiles and said, "Me too (f/n), me too."

…

(f/n) (l/n) had been Peter's one and only friend back on Terra. She was also the only person that never bullshitted him about anything, and she always knew the right thing to say, even though they were just kids. If he missed anyone on that planet, it would be her. But he had been gone for many, many years, and god knows if she would even recognize him. Plus, with his ship currently residing in another galaxy, it would take weeks to get there. Then again, if he really wanted to visit her, he would've done it already, wouldn't he?

"We've approached Thessia, Peter," said a voice from behind him.

"Oh, uh, right," Peter stuttered, straightening himself up from his musings, "thanks, Gamora."

From his peripheral vision, Peter could see Gamora raise an eyebrow at him. Knowing fully well that she would know that something was wrong, Peter was quick to come up with an excuse for his behavior. "Man, that ryncol liquor really kicked my ass." He got up and stretched, grabbing his jacket from his chair and pulling it on. "Speaking of which, we really need some more alcohol."

Gamora rolled her eyes. "We really don't."

Peter grinned as goofily as he could muster at Gamora and called out to the rest of the ship, "Who wants me to get some more booze?!"

One "Hell yeah!" from Rocket, one simple "Yes." from Drax, and a tiny "I am Groot" was all he needed to waltz out of the ship, winking at Gamora before the door closed behind him. Though his need for alcohol was a cover up, Peter thought he might as well head to the nearest bar anyway, thinking that in some weird way some alcohol would sober him up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for this chapter coming out so late, I've been super busy because I recently graduated high school! Yay adulthood! Just kidding. Anyway, critique is warmly welcomed and I hope y'all enjoy this chapter!

Peter had to admit, the alcohol served on Thessia wasn't half bad. At least it didn't poison him like that one shot in Tuchanka had. Now he knew to avoid any type of liquid that looked like it had been spiked with acid. The bar itself wasn't too shabby either. Some thought was put into the interior design, making it look more like a nightclub instead of a hull of a rusty ship. The patrons were occupied with either their drink or the dance floor, and only one fight had broken out so far and was quickly resolved. Not the worst place to drown out your feelings.

Usually with alcohol, everything and everyone would become more appealing to Peter. He guessed this was true with the establishment, but the women who draped themselves around him grew uglier with each glass. He just couldn't get (f/n) out of his head. He hasn't dwelled on a woman this long since his mother's death. He wasn't fond of the way thinking about her made his stomach stir and heat rise to his cheeks. He hadn't known her for that long, there was no way he could like her like that, could he?

Just as he decided to order another drink to try to dull his thoughts and the fluttering in his chest, someone burst in through the front door. Tying a belt around her waist hurriedly as she whisked past, Peter noticed that she looked Terran. Normal human ears, facial features devoid of ridges or bumps, and "other things" that classified her as such. For a brief second he wondered who she was, but shook that thought from his mind and brought his attention back to his empty glass. Before he could even utter a word to the bartender, the chlorine-colored beverage started pouring into his glass.

Looking up, he realized that is was the Terran from a couple seconds ago. The belt she was fumbling with earlier was a standard Thessia customer satisfaction reader, which could tell when a patron was satisfied and what their preferences were. Her hair was in a total disarray and her clothes were slightly rumpled. But still, Peter couldn't help but notice her more than complimentary features. She was definitely beautiful, even with the alcohol clouding his judgement. 

She eventually noticed him staring and scoffed. "Is there anything you need, sir?" she inquired, dryly exaggerating the word "sir".

"Um, uh, nothing babe," he stuttered, looking down at his drink and away from her face, "thanks for the drink."

"Yeah, no problem bub." she replied, turning away from him to place the bottle on the shelf. He took this opportunity to appreciate the dimples on her back that peeked out whether shirt rid up slightly. His staring was interrupted yet again when a voice called from across the bar. "Hey (f/n)!"

Everything suddenly slowed for Peter, all noise and movement becoming nonexistent. A name repeated itself in his head over and over. "(f/n)." "(f/n). "(f/n)." The image of the (h/c) (e/c) little girl flashed like strobe lights in his subconscious. Glancing over to the other side of the bar, he didn't make out either hues. But a (f/n) who's Terran? And working in an outer-galaxy bar? That's a rarity.

"Give me a sec!" (f/n) yelled, gathering up a bottle and a couple glasses in her hands. She whisked past Peter and the bar was up and running at normal speed again. He watched as she set down the glasses and poured in the liquid in each one in a split second. She leaned against the bar, talking animatedly to the group in front of her and laughing heartily at some joke that Peter was too far away to hear.

Her name continued to repeat itself in his thoughts as he pondered. Could she really be (f/n) (l/n)?


End file.
